


My Heart Told My Head (This Time, No)

by AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Angst, Don't copy to another site, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Logan Has Fire Powers, M/M, Magic, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-19
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-10-12 22:01:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17475746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate/pseuds/AshesStarsAndRedStringsOfFate
Summary: This marriage was already risky enough; Logan did not need his husband-to-be executing him for a curse that had been placed upon him as a young child.Or: A slight Frozen-inspired AU involving a disastrous wedding between Princes Roman and Logan, an overprotective best friend Virgil, and a kind goat herder named Patton.Written for my friend Remi's birthday. Happy birthday, Remi!!





	My Heart Told My Head (This Time, No)

**Author's Note:**

> If you’re Remi- Happy birthday! Hope you enjoy this trash.  
> If you’re anyone else- Hope you enjoy this trash! I love writing angst Logince Royalty, what can I say?

Prince Logan sighed and calmly adjusted his gloves, desperate to quell the bubbling magic pushing against his skin. His new husband would hate him if he knew. This marriage was already risky enough, seeing as much of the population of both of their countries opposed their marriage on principle, and Logan did not need his husband-to-be executing him for a curse that had been placed upon him as a young child. After all, curses like Logan’s were extremely uncommon, and Roman would most likely have no frame of reference on how Logan’s powers were, mostly, not dangerous. 

 

The scent of charred fabric reached Logan’s nose and he glanced down, golden eyes widening. His once-white glove was now almost ash. He quickly tamped down on his powers, smothering his rising panic under layers and layers of apathy, just as he had been taught. The flames instantly extinguished themselves, and Logan sighed in relief. This was why it was easier, more beneficial even, to not deal with emotions. Emotions are what caused his out-of-control flames; everyone really was much safer if Logan kept those powers under lock and key. 

 

A crisp knock sounded at the door. “Your Majesty? May I please come in?” Virgil. That was Virgil, Logan’s only true friend in this world. Although it was considered odd, to say the least, Logan had insisted that Virgil come with him as part of his agreement to this marriage. Virgil was the only person who could truly understand Logan and his curse, and even though it was childish, Logan did not want to lose that security. In Logan’s mind, 15 years of friendship was too long to just abandon Virgil with his parents. 

 

“Of course, Virgil,” Logan called back, clenching his fists. His powers were still begging for release, and with his own wedding only a few hours away, Logan needed to get them under control, and fast. Virgil carefully pushed open the door, slipped inside, and quietly shut it behind him. He noticed Logan’s tense posture and quickly crossed the floor to meet him, a small, comforting smile on his face. 

 

“Hey, L,” he murmured, hands reaching out to grab Logan’s own. “What’s going on?” Logan swallowed and allowed Virgil to grip his hands, deriving a small amount of comfort from the presence of his oldest friend. 

 

“I am… experiencing a small amount of anxiety over the coming hours,” Logan answered. Virgil squeezed his hands and sighed. 

 

“Logan, you’ll be fine, okay? Prince Roman won’t think anything of you and your talents, and if he says anything even somewhat nasty in your general direction about them, he’s going to quickly find himself as an icicle,” Virgil soothed. Logan snorted a bit at Virgil’s mostly-empty threat. No matter how much Logan knew Virgil would not, in fact, freeze his husband-to-be solid, the mere fact that Virgil was willing to defend him against all criticism soothed his nerves like nothing else possibly could. 

 

“Thank you, Virgil,” Logan laughed, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand. “I believe I am ready now.” Virgil nodded and happened to glance at Logan’s bare hands. He frowned. 

 

“Lo… you going to be okay without gloves?” Logan nodded and smiled before straightening. 

 

“I have to be, Virgil. This shall be fine.”

* * *

 

Six hours later found Prince Roman standing in shock, staring at the place where his new husband had vanished to only seconds after his hands erupted into flames. Chaos reigned around him as everyone was screaming, dashing about, calling for the blood of the secret sorcerer who had attempted to assassinate the Crown Prince. Roman just stood there, clutching Logan’s cloak in his hands as his heart furiously tried to remember how to work normally. 

 

“Okay, come with me, buddy, we’ll figure this out together,” a voice murmured in his ear. He allowed the person to pull him away from all the madness and into a quiet, dark back room. He was still breathing funny, his head was still stuffy, and he still couldn’t think straight. A sharp cold on his wrists brought him back to reality as he yelped in shock and slight pain. A huff, and then he found his husband’s manservant in his face, silver eyes flashing in anger. 

 

“Now listen up,  _ Prince Roman _ . This is your fault. You didn’t even ask Logan what kind of stuff he would be comfortable doing and just did what you want. Plus, insinuating that people with magic are evil? That didn’t help either. So, here’s what we’re going to do: You and I are going to go out and find him, and you are going to apologize and immediately break up with him because you don’t deserve him whatsoever. Have I made myself clear?” he hissed, a dagger made of ice finding its way to Roman’s throat about halfway through the short speech. Roman quickly nodded in agreement, desperate to get away from the crazy person. The manservant relaxed a bit and stepped back, dagger still dangling from his hand. 

 

“I… If it means anything, I am sorry,” Roman offered. The silver-eyed manservant just glared, a sneer crossing his delicate features. 

 

“If you were really sorry, you wouldn’t have done that shit in the first place.” With that, he strolled out of the room, glaring at Roman to tell him to follow him. Roman did, only pausing to grab the small, blue velvet box he had been planning to gift to Logan that evening. Logan’s servant may kill him for this, but Roman was determined to try and fix his marriage. He hated giving up. This, at least, he was determined to succeed in.

* * *

 

Patton startled as he heard a loud commotion outside. Perhaps one of the goats had gotten loose and knocked something over? Perhaps someone was trying to steal the goats? Perhaps the goats were fighting? Whatever it was, Patton needed to go check it out right this instant. He quickly ran out to the barn, only pausing to grab a shovel and to steady his nerves, before bursting into the barn, shovel raised above his head. He only had time to register a human-shaped figuring crouching in front of one of his goats before he swung the shovel at the person’s skull. With a sickening  _ clang _ , the person collapsed into a heap like a puppet with their strings cut. Patton dropped the shovel and staggered backwards, a bit nauseous. He could… he just killed this guy. 

 

One of his goats, Cass, butted his head gently into Patton’s leg. Patton snapped out of his panic and dashed forwards, rolling the person over so he could get a good look at the wound. He couldn’t see anything in the darkness of the barn, so, with a moment to brace himself, he lifted the person up and carried them into the house, taking note of how light they were. That… was concerning, especially since they appeared to be well-dressed and really should be heavier if they had enough money to afford clothing such as that. 

 

Patton, with some difficulty, managed to get the stranger inside and lying down on his table. After that was done, he ran to grab what few medical supplies he had in order to try and make sure the person didn’t die. He dumped them all on an open corner of the table, grabbed a roll of bandages, and prepared to fix up the intruder. He froze as his eyes finally registered the facial features of the person on his table. 

 

“Oh stars,” he whispered, staggering backwards. “I just assaulted Prince Roman’s fiancé.” Said fiancé groaned a bit and shivered, eyes flickering under the closed eyelids. Patton stepped back, worrying his lip between his teeth. What should he do? Should he get help? Should he try to wake up the Prince? What should he do? 

 

His dilemma was solved as the Prince groaned one last time as his golden eyes fluttered open, furiously trying to adjust to his new surroundings. Patton could tell the exact moment he realized what had happened, as the Prince leaped up, wobbling, onto the table and pointed… a flaming palm at Patton’s face. 

 

“Oh gosh!” Patton yelped, jumping backwards. “I’m so sorry, I thought you were going to steal my goats, I wasn’t thinking, please don’t kill me, I’ll do anything!” The Prince was still tense, breathing heavily with unfocused eyes. Patton held up his hands the way he would to a scared goat, making sure his voice and eyes and face were all calm. 

 

“I… where am I? What happened? Who are you?” he asked, voice high with his words blurring together. Patton could still figure out what he was saying though, thanks to his long history with his former partner, Virgil. 

 

“I’m Patton! You’re in my house, on my table, and I accidentally whacked you over the head with a shovel,” Patton explained, smiling to show that he had no bad intentions towards the Prince. Said Prince didn’t calm down, his eyes still frantically darting around the room, presumably searching for an exit. His legs were still trembling, and Patton started shifting closer, knowing that the Prince was most likely about to collapse. The Prince jumped backwards, obviously noticing Patton, but his legs shot out from under him as they were too weak to sustain his weight under that movement. Patton yelped and dove forward, barely managing to catch the Prince before his head connected with the floor. The Prince whimpered as his flames went out, and Patton let out a slight sigh of relief. He was fine. 

 

“What… happened? My curse is just… gone,” the Prince whispered, and that is when Patton realized that he wasn’t wearing his gloves. 

 

“Okay, I’ll explain in a minute, just let me get you situated in a bed, okay?” Patton murmured, heaving the Prince down into a bridal carry before heading to Virgil’s former room, the Prince shivering the entire way there and muttering about a curse and how it was gone. Patton gently dropped the Prince onto Virgil’s former bed, and instantly, the flames returned, the Prince gasping in shock. 

 

“Yeah, sorry, forgot to warn you, um… I can actually mute powers? If I don’t have gloves on and I touch you?” Patton quickly explained. The Prince relaxed immediately at that explanation and clenched his hands into fists. 

 

“Er, um… that’s perfectly alright, I was just… startled. Uh, are you- where am- who- what is your name?” the Prince finally settled on, clasping his hands together to stop them from waving around. Patton frowned at the way his arms still trembled, as if he wanted,  _ needed _ , to move them, but thought he couldn’t. 

 

“I’m Patton, just a simple goatherd, no need to be worried! And you’re Prince Roman’s fiance, right?” Patton answered, bouncing a little, trying to show the Prince that it was okay to move around and fidget. Said Prince simply clasped his hands tighter and bit his lip. 

 

“Technically, at this point I am Prince Roman’s ex-husband,” he murmured. Patton stopped, shocked. What had happened? Was he that behind on current events? 

 

“Oh… is there a name I can call you, kiddo?” Patton whispered, reaching his hand out to play with the Prince’s hair. He looked like he needed some comfort right about now. The Prince’s eyes snapped open at Patton’s words and he opened his mouth before snapping it closed. 

 

“Logan,” he finally offered. “You may call me Logan.” Patton nodded and ruffled Logan’s (surprisingly soft and silky) black hair, ignoring the indignant noises coming from Logan’s throat. 

 

“Well, Logan, nice to meet you! You’re staying with me until we figure something else out. In the meantime, what do you want for dinner?”

* * *

 

“Can we stop for dinner, please?” Roman whined. Virgil gritted his teeth and solidly ignored the Prince, conjuring another small flurry to warn him off. The whiny Prince shut up, and Virgil let out a sigh of relief at the new silence. He needed focus to prepare himself for what was to come. He knew Logan, probably better than Logan knew himself, and as such, could take a pretty good guess at where Logan had ended up. Considering how Logan had always taken comfort in small, out-of-the-way places populated with animals, it made sense that he’d stumble across Patton’s place and try to hang out in the barn. And of course Patton would have found him and brought him inside. Logan was probably being force-fed Patton’s chocolate chip cookies to make him gain some weight; Virgil had always been concerned about Logan’s weight, and Patton would worry too. 

 

Virgil bit his nails as his former house entered his vision. He didn’t visit as often as he should, even though Logan would definitely let him, mostly because it hurt too much. He and Patton had… parted ways messily, and Virgil was not looking forward to Patton’s reaction to seeing him again. 

 

“For Logan,” Virgil muttered, trudging onwards. He ignored the questioning noises coming from Roman and kept walking, even picking up the pace a little. Logan needed him. Logan needed him the second Roman grabbed his waist on the altar. Logan needed him the second Roman talked about controlling magic and possibly erasing it. Logan needed him the second his parents told him he was being married off to someone who was his polar opposite. Logan needed him the second his parents found out he was gay. Logan needed him from the time he was 5 and basically abandoned by his parents in favour of his much more normal siblings. 

 

“Please don’t kill me, but there’s a house right over there. Maybe we could stop and rest for a bit?” Roman called. Virgil turned back to see where his finger was pointing and then followed the line of sight, eyes widening as he saw exactly what house Roman had seen. Patton’s. Virgil bit his lip, straightened his spine, and marched right on up to the front door, cloak swirling around him as he walked. He may as well just get this over with, so with a few long strides, he found himself in front of the door, banging on it. He dropped his fist, and the door was flung open instantly… by Patton. His blue eyes widened as he saw who exactly was on his porch banging on his door late at night, and Virgil grinned sheepishly in response. 

 

“Hey Patton,” he started, voice warbling with nerves. “Have you seen a tall, skinny, dark-haired person come by here in the past couple hours?” Understanding dawned in Patton's eyes and he opened the door wider, smiling softly. 

 

“I think Logan needs you, Virgil,” Patton whispered in response. That set off all of Virgil's instincts. He gently shoved his way past Patton and sprinted up to his old room (for where else would Patton bring someone so like his former partner?), throwing the door open to find Logan curled into a ball, crying. Virgil slowly, quietly, padded his way across the room and sat down next to Logan, tangling his hand in Logan's hair. The fire prince stiffened at the contact, and Virgil sighed. Fifteen years of work convincing Logan that he was loved and cared for and deserved kindness, all down the drain because of one stupid prince. Virgil could hear Patton chewing Roman out downstairs (of course he would, that was one of the things Virgil had loved, still loved, about him) but decided to ignore that, focusing instead on Logan, his best friend who just needed some comfort. 

 

“Well, look on the bright side, L. At least you don't have to hide anymore,” Virgil started. Logan let out another sob. “I get it, Logan. I promise, I won't let this happen again. Okay? I'll keep Roman away from you. Just say the word, and I'll turn him into a popsicle.” Logan let out a small, watery laugh at that and sat up, tears still bubbling in his eyes. 

 

“No, he… He doesn't deserve that.” Virgil shot him an incredulous look. “Logan, of course he does. He hurt you! He was planning on hurting everyone like us! He's not a good person.” Logan shook his head. “Virgil… He didn't know. I… I just wish to speak to him.” Virgil frowned but stood up, offering his hand to Logan, who took it and stood, wobbling a bit. 

 

“Logan? Virgil? Dinner is ready,” Patton softly called from outside the door. 

 

“Be right down, Knuddelmaus,” Virgil called back, wincing at the old nickname that fell so easily from his lips. Patton said nothing. Virgil gently tugged on Logan's hand and lead him downstairs, ready to defend his best friend from his fiance. 

 

“Hey, Logi, Zauberigel,” Patton called as the two introverts walked in. Virgil startled at the use of his old nickname. “Dinner is ready, and Roman wants to talk.” Logan flinched, and Virgil scowled. 

 

“An apology, darling,” Roman's voice, surprisingly soft, came from the doorway. Virgil turned to see him smiling at Logan, regret staining every centimeter of his facial features. “I… I acted rude, and unprincely. I was, to put it quite frankly, a bigoted asshole, and I would like to attempt to make amends.” Virgil opened his mouth to tell Roman exactly where he could put his worthless apology, but Logan answered before he could speak. 

 

“Roman… I… we could try again, perhaps. For our countries,” Logan hastily added. Roman snorted and his grin widened and brightened. 

 

“For our countries,” he agreed. Logan nodded, Roman nodded, and the tension between them seemed to vanish as they silently reached some understanding that Virgil could not discern. 

 

“Speaking of making amends,” Patton murmured in his ear. “I've been thinking of moving into the city. To find better opportunities.” Virgil's breath caught in his throat. Was Patton really saying…? “If you stick around, I'll see you almost every day.” Virgil nodded. 

 

“Yes, Patton. We could… maybe try again. Um… you are aware that I-” 

 

“Virgil, I'm the same way. I don't want romance. I want a partner who will hold my hand and laugh at my horrid jokes and tell me my cooking is good even when it's not, because that is the most perfect person I can imagine.” Virgil giggled and nodded. 

 

“Yes, Patton. Yes to everything you want and more,” Virgil laughed. “Now, let's eat. I want to see if your cooking has improved any.” 

 

“No, it has not,” Patton chirped, beaming. Virgil had expected nothing less. 

 

And in a few years, maybe Logan would once again be walking down the isle to pledge his heart to Roman. Maybe Roman will have legalized magic and started to encourage its study by then. Maybe Virgil and Patton will have reconciled fully and started raising their goats again, Virgil not having to choose between his best friend and his partner. And maybe, in those few years, maybe Logan will have learned to embrace his powers, embrace his identity, and learned that people do in fact care for him. Maybe, just maybe, in a few years, everyone will be happy and everything, for one shining instant, will be perfect. 

 

But those are just possibilities. Virgil grinned at Logan's dorkiness as he stammered through not insulting Patton's frankly awful cooking and glared at Roman to warn him off of harming Virgil's best friend. For now, though, things were strained, but for Virgil, that was fine. Everything would be okay… eventually. 

**Author's Note:**

> … If you’re Remi, I’m sorry.  
> If you’re anyone else… I hope you liked it??   
> Thanks for reading, and I’ll see you all next time!


End file.
